


Wild

by cellostiel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellostiel/pseuds/cellostiel
Summary: Daryl refuses to be tamed. He refuses to let this place turn him into some pretty niceboy that eats his vegetables and goes to social events and does himself up presentable for company. He's Daryl goddamn Dixon, and he tracks mud into the house, and gets animal blood down the drain when Rick forces him to shower, and he teaches Carl how to cheat at poker and how to set traps, and when someone tries to make polite conversation he starts cleaning his bow until they go away. He calls Judith Lil' Asskicker when he damn well knows her name and he wonders how young is too young to start teaching her survivin' skills.-They get to Alexandria, and Daryl has some adjusting to do.





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> It's been well over a year since I've seen the Alexandria episodes and I'm currently on season 3 of my rewatch, so, y'know, fair warning. 
> 
> This was originally a character study of Daryl that's slowly been turning into something more Rickyl-flavored. Enjoy!

His Da once equated him to a feral dog, and Daryl figures he wasn't entirely wrong. He certainly seems to take to the new world better than most. Like it's in his bones to be out in the wild, to constantly be hunting and fighting and surviving. 

Needless to say, he doesn't take to Alexandria very kindly. Aaron and his garage are nice, sure, but Daryl never feels like he can settle here. Maybe he's too wild, too feral for civilized life. 

Sometimes, when he looks at Rick, shaved clean and acting all polite-like, he wonders if maybe the man isn't the same, isn't just playing pretend. Or maybe Rick's just fooling himself. 

Either way, Daryl can't bring himself to sleep inside, despite the chill starting to bite at the air, despite the fact he hasn't had a bed since the prison and the bench is none too comfortable. He makes do, like he always has, and keeps himself busy hunting for the group, for the little family he's starting to call his own. 

He's not sure when it happened, when he finally admitted that this was more than just some ragtag group to him. Maybe it was Carol and her kindness, her willingness to pull him by the ear and get him to behave, but still wipe the dirt off his face at the end of the day and give him a smile. Maybe it was Beth, with her blinding optimism even after everything that happened to her, her choice to be happy again in the face of it all, and her choice to drag him with her, kicking and screaming. Maybe it was Michonne, their friendship forged in blood and sweat and long nights in the woods sitting, waiting, for walkers or for food, her sharp smile and dry jokes, pulling a laugh out of him even when things seemed hopeless. Maybe it was Rick, his unerring determination, his willingness to anything for those he calls family, the way he takes in strays like some crazy cat lady and makes them good, makes them better than when he found them.

Hell, maybe it was Lil' Asskicker. Daryl never really saw the appeal in babies or kids in general, he just kind of tolerated them, but damn if he wouldn't give everything he has for that kid. He loves that little girl like nothing else, would lay down his life for her again and again. He'd lay down his life for any of his family, really, and has, time and again, but there's an unspoken agreement that Judith is special. That she deserves the best that this crap world can give.

If it weren't for Lil' Asskicker, Daryl wonders if he'd even have stayed. He wants to see her grown right, and he wants to do whatever he can to make sure that happens. 'Sides, who's gonna teach her to hunt and track proper? None of the others hold a candle to him. 

He wonders if she'll grow up civilized like the people here, or if she'll have that little bit of wild that her dad and brother have, that look in their eyes when it's just the family, when they're not keeping up appearances and playing normal.

Daryl hopes she never has to kill someone, never has to have a walker's brains or someone's blood on her hands, but he doesn't want her completely domesticated, either. He thinks he'd lose her if she grew up too sheltered. After all, he doesn't know how to connect to people who aren't feral like him. People like how Rick was at the start, how the people here are. He knows they all miss life like this, this simulation of what it was like before, but part of him wants them all to stay just a little bit wild, just a little feral like him. He wants them to never truly settle in. 

  
  


~

  
  


Daryl refuses to be tamed. He refuses to let this place turn him into some pretty niceboy that eats his vegetables and goes to social events and does himself up presentable for company. He's Daryl goddamn Dixon, and he tracks mud into the house, and gets animal blood down the drain when Rick forces him to shower, and he teaches Carl how to cheat at poker and how to set traps, and when someone tries to make polite conversation he starts cleaning his bow until they go away. He calls Judith Lil' Asskicker when he damn well knows her name and he wonders how young is too young to start teaching her survivin' skills. 

Bouncing her on his knee, Daryl wonders if she'll grow up to be half as good a hunter as him. He hopes so. And if she's lucky, she'll be half as good a leader as her dad. 

Daryl snorts to himself. Half hunter, half leader. What could go wrong?

Well, she has Carol and Beth and Glenn to keep her kind-hearted, to keep her grounded. It takes a village, don't it? And with their small family, Daryl thinks Judith will turn out just fine.

"How's my baby girl doing?" Rick asks, hanging his jacket up by the door. Daryl would've just dropped it across the back of the couch. 

"Good." Daryl says. "Ate a little while ago, just trying to work out some energy so she can nap later."

Rick comes over and takes her from him, lifting her up and doting on her the way a good father should. Giving Judith attention like that didn't come easy to Daryl, but he did what he could, and hoped it was enough. He didn't want her to end up like him and Merle. 

"She behave today?" Rick asks, bouncing her on his hip and smiling as she coos at him.

"Well enough." It'd been Daryl's turn to watch her, and if it were up to him, he'd watch her near every day. "Made a mess at dinner, but she ate most of it."

"Good girl," Rick praises her, rubbing her back. "You wanna play with Dad and Daryl for a while before naptime?"

Judith makes a gurgling sound that sounds like all her other baby noises to Daryl, but Rick seems to take it as agreement, because he beams and goes to get her toys. 

Daryl sits with them and plays with Judith, but there's only so much he can take before it all starts feeling too domestic and he has to get up and leave. Rick seems to understand, and he lets him go with a, "Rabbit for dinner tonight." Daryl nods and closes the door behind him. 

  
  


~

  
  


He goes out and done gets himself hurt. Not bit, thank whatever you believe in: just fell a ways off a roof and landed harshly. 

Soon as he gets back, the others are descending on him, worrying and fussin' and making a great big deal over some broken bones. 

"I'm fine," Daryl insists, even as pain shoots through his chest as Rick hauls him up the stairs. 

"No, you're not." Rick says sternly, and sets Daryl carefully down on his own damn bed. This is not the way he imagined getting into the other man's bed, but he doesn't see fit to argue when Rick gives him that determined look and says, "You're staying here tonight."

Daryl huffs and puffs but stays, letting Beth and Maggie examine his leg and ribs and wrap him up best they can. Everything hurts like a bitch, but he's too man to take the painkillers they offer to get him. 'Sides, he's dealt with worse. 

"Save it for someone who needs 'em." he says, and Rick frowns, but doesn't exactly argue. Daryl appreciates that about the man. He cares about his family more than anything, sure, but he's also pragmatic as hell. 

They leave him to his misery, some of them talking about dinner and fixing a plate for Daryl, but Rick lingers, leaning against the wall and watching with folded arms as Daryl squirms to get comfortable. 

"You were reckless." he says. 

Daryl snorts. "When'm I not?"

"Never. Not unless you're putting your life on the line for someone else." It's accusing, and Daryl narrows his eyes. 

"What, you think I should've just let Glenn die? Leave Maggie a widow? Nah. Fuck that."

"Daryl-"

"No, fuck you, Rick. I saw a chance to bring us all out alive, and I took it. I'm here, ain't I?"

"Don't think I'm not damn grateful, Daryl." Rick snaps. "Don't think I'm not glad Glenn's alive. But I know damn well when you're trying to help someone else, you don't exactly take care of yourself. I also know damn well there was probably an easier way for you to get out, a way that wouldn't have broken half the bones in your body." 

This is good. A fight is just what Daryl needs to distract him from the pain. "Yeah? And what if there was? You ain't my Da, Grimes. Can't always tell me what to do, can't always be there to hold my hand and make me come back in one piece."

"And what would we do with out you?" Rick hisses, stepping forward. "Huh? How do you think Carol would feel if you were gone? Or Michonne, or Beth, or Carl? How do you think Judith would feel? You talk about leaving a widow, when you  _ know _ how many people care about you."

Daryl scoffs, looking away. "She don't even know me. She's too young."

"She cries unless you're the one to put her down." Rick says. "You know you're the only one that can get her to settle sometimes. Don't you dare sell yourself short with this."

Daryl shrugs uncomfortably, says, "She's a baby. She'll get over it."

"What, now you're planning to die?"

"No, I meant-"

"I don't care what you meant, Daryl, you don't get to do this. You don't get to not take care of yourself." Rick looks pained, and it hurts Daryl something fierce. "You're not expendable, Daryl. You don't get to just- to just throw yourself away like that. To treat yourself like trash that can just be thrown away."

Daryl glares at Rick's feet. "Oh, I'm so  _ sorry. _ Next time I'll just let Glenn  _ die." _

"I'm not-" Rick has started to yell, and he cuts himself off. He starts again, in that not-yelling yell he does when he's trying to contain himself, and Daryl hates it, wishes he'd just let go, "I'm not saying that. I'm  _ saying,  _ don't forget to look after yourself when you're looking after others. You matter, too."

He hates when Rick gets like this. Daryl  _ doesn't _ matter. Everyone damn knows it. He's only good for huntin' and killing walkers and sometimes getting the baby to settle. All that, they could easily replace. 

He can't think how to put all that into words Rick would understand, though, so he just glares. Rick shifts his stance, stands his ground, and glares right back. 

"I'm alive, ain't I?" Daryl finally shoots back. "Made it back to y'all, didn't I?"

"Barely." Rick grits out. "Daryl, you can hardly  _ walk. _ You'll be lucky if an infection doesn't set in."

"M'fine." Daryl says stubbornly. "Been through worse. Came out okay."

"And what if next time you don't? What happens when your luck runs out?" Daryl has to scoff at the idea of him having any  _ luck, _ but that just seems to make Rick angrier. "I'm serious, Daryl. You have people counting on you now. You can't be so reckless."

Daryl lurches up despite the searing pain in his side and snaps, "You can't tell me what to do, Grimes. You don't  _ own _ me."

"No, I don't. No one owns you, Daryl. But I care about you. We  _ all _ care about you, and it goddamn hurts to see you like this."

Daryl has to lay back down, the pain making him break out into a sweat. "Fuck off," is what he finally manages, and it's not his proudest moment. Rick lets out an irritated breath, runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know how to get through that thick skull of yours that people  _ care _ about you, Daryl. That people would  _ hurt _ if you were gone."

Grinding his teeth together, Daryl looks away. It's hard enough for him to admit he cares about these people, let alone admit that they might… 

Rick sighs like he gets it. Maybe he does. 

"Look." he says. "I'm just askin' you to try an' look out yourself, too. Not sayin' you gotta throw others under the bus, just… don't throw yourself under, neither."

Daryl nods jerkily. "Yeah. I can… I can try."

"Good." Rick says, relaxing somewhat. "I'll bring you some dinner."

He leaves, and Daryl huffs and sinks into the pillows, trying to relax. 

  
  


~

  
  


He doesn't realize he's dozed off until he feels a blanket being thrown over him. He blinks his eyes open and looks up, finds Rick standing over him. 

"M'hey." he says, shifting to sit up slightly. Rick puts a hand on his shoulder, eases him back down. 

"You rest. We saved you some dinner."

"Didn't hafta-"

"Daryl. We can spare one meal for when you're ready." 

Daryl grumbles but doesn't argue further, the warmth of the blanket, however thin, is making him tired and agreeable. Rick sets out a glass of water on the nightstand, nods, and starts to leave.

"Where you goin'?" Daryl asks. Rick pauses, frowns in confusion. 

"Bed. Gonna crash on the couch." 

"Nah, don't put yourself out. This's your bed."

"Daryl, you're in no shape to move-"

"Didn't say nothin' 'bout that. Bed's big enough. We can share." He frowns, adds, "Just no gay shit."

Rick snorts, looks at him in disbelief, and shakes his head. "I don't-"

"'M serious, Rick. S' cool. Just no snugglin' up to me or nothin'."

"No, 'course not." Rick laughs. He does come further into the room, though, shrugging off his jacket. Daryl "hmph"s and settles down, shutting his eyes and just listening as Rick gets ready for bed. It's strangely… comfortable. Easy. After thinking about it a minute or two, it makes his skin crawl, makes him wish he could go out and hunt, maybe skin something on the kitchen table even though it'll make Rick yell at him. 

Rick eases down into the bed next to him, and Daryl tries to get used to it, to someone being so close to him. Sleeping nearby while they're camping on the road is one thing, but sharing a bed… oh, that's a whole other beast. Daryl hasn't shared a bed like this since he and Merle had to cramp together in their tiny room when he was young. Back before Merle got that attitude about him, before Daryl knew what the back of their da's hand felt like against his cheek. 

He thinks idly about the people he's slept with, how none of them ever quite managed to get to a bed. There were the backs of cars, sure, with awkward limbs and bruised elbows, and several times against a wall or bike, giving or receiving some head. 

He kinda misses it, sometimes. Never got crazy about it like some people, never lost his mind over it or craved it, it was just… something to do. Something fun. Like poker. He misses it, sure, but he's not about to go out of his way for it. Not to say he doesn't entertain himself every now and then when he gets a few moments to himself. And he'd be lying if he said his entertainin' never featured their fearless leader…

Not thoughts to be having while sharing a bed with the man, he decides, and peeks at Rick out of the corner of his eye. Rick is settling down, in his jeans and undershirt, and he looks over when he feels eyes on him.

"How're you feeling?" Rick asks, leaning against the headboard. 

"Fine," Daryl says automatically, then winces when he shifts. "More 'r less." 

"You sure you don't need any-"

"I'm fine without painkillers." Daryl cuts him off. "Been through worse with less." Climbed outta that damn ravine by himself with a hole in his side, didn't he?

That makes Rick's mouth pull down in a frown. Daryl knows Rick doesn't like it when he's so casual about the shit he's been through, but he doesn't know how else to be. 

"I'll be fine. Really." he says. Rick just sighs and gives a nod, shifting to lie down more fully. 

"Get some rest, Daryl." Rick says. 

"Hmf. Whatever." Daryl shuts his eyes again, tries to get comfortable. 

"G'night, Daryl." Rick says, amused. 

There's silence for a while, then Daryl grumbles, "Night."

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me at @cellostiel on twitter or cellostiel#5562 on discord!!


End file.
